


Laundromat Bandit: A Tragic Love Affair

by kingsoup



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 10:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16491098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingsoup/pseuds/kingsoup
Summary: Luffy steals from Law.





	Laundromat Bandit: A Tragic Love Affair

**Author's Note:**

> this started as a doodle and, as always, got out of hand  
> i draw a lot of op art on my art blog (unholysoup) however all my laundry bandit specific posts can be found here http://laundromat-bandit.tumblr.com (should you be so inclined to look)

 

It started as a simple problem - his washing machine appeared to be broken (the drain pump was jammed, probably, it wouldn’t matter soon) and Law was a medical student; Law was at the top in his class; Law could fix a fucking washing machine. 

 

Except, he couldn’t, and he made it so much worse somehow. First it was the pump that was having problems, the fucking washer wasn’t draining, and Law had resisted from just kicking it and hoping it would sort itself out. Instead, he inspected the problem at hand the best he could but the more he looked the more things looked broken and then he was fairly certain the motor ran itself dry and seized on top of everything and he didn't know how to fix _that,_ but he is stubborn and he still thought he might be able to figure it out. 

 

While he fucked around, Bepo called a repair man, explained the problem, and sat on Law until he stopped touching the washing machine and made anything worse despite Law’s vehement protests and threats. That night they didn’t have a washing machine to use, but that was fine, the repair man would be coming the next morning and neither of them would mourn a night lost to dirty clothes. It was when the repair man didn’t show up the next day, and had to reschedule again after the following day to Thursday (three days from then!) that Law considered it slightly more than a simple problem. He didn’t like lounging around in dirty clothes, and while his roommate seemed to be more amicable towards the situation than Law was, he too liked the idea of having clean clothes. 

 

It was at the laundromat Bepo convinced Law to go to where the problem truly turned into a complex problem. 

 

The Grand Line was in walking distance from their apartment, it was moderately clean, and reasonably priced enough, however, as all things do, it too had its flaws - the laundromat was busiest during the hours Bepo and Law didn’t have class, and it closed too early for them to use after class. 

 

“I don’t know why you’re making a big deal about this - we should just put our laundry on before class, switch it to the dryer during lunch, and then pick it up on the way home from classes,” Bepo proposed while piling his dirty laundry into a bag. He had misplaced the the laundry detergent and was beginning to fret. Law had asked him to bring it with them, and he didn’t want to let on that he had misplaced it. 

“I don’t want to leave our laundry unattended. What if someone tries to steal it?” Law had finished putting his own laundry into a separate bag and was leaning against the closet door while he watched his roommate subtly try to search around. 

“Well, what else will we do? I can’t skip my class, and you shouldn’t with your midterm coming up. No one will want our dirty laundry and I am running out of clothes to wear. I didn’t wash my clothes for more than a week _before_ the machine broke and I don’t want to wait any longer!” Bepo looked back at Law, caught his glance towards the kitchen table, and spotted the laundry detergent on the counter. He hurried over to grab it as the older finally huffed in annoyed agreement. 

“Fine, you’re right, no one is going to steal our clothes.”

 

Law spent the entire afternoon agitated; it almost wasn’t worth having clean clothes again. When classes were finished he had to restrain himself from sprinting out of his lecture hall to his car. He caught up with Bepo on the way, and while the younger talked about his classes with vivid interest, all Law was focussed on was making sure his clothes were clean, dry, and all accounted for. 

 

When they arrived at the laundromat, there were few people left folding their clothes in the last half hour left opened. The two young men grabbed their clothes, Bepo shoving his clothes into his bag hurriedly, no doubt in an effort to be out ten minutes before closing so he wouldn’t have to feel guilty for keeping the laundromat open so late, while Law carefully folded and mentally counted all of his clothes. He hadn’t brought much, just enough to keep him through the next few days until Friday when he could safely wash his clothes. Becuase he hadn’t brought much, he immediately noticed when the bulkiest of it - his old grey hoodie - was missing. He checked, double-checked, the washing machine and the dryer he used. He checked the floor and the counters and the chairs. He turned to Bepo and _glared_.

 

(Bepo apologized the whole ride home. Law eventually told him to stop, but jesus _fucking_ christ, of course someone stole the ugliest thing he owned, and of course it was the one thing that was arguably irreplaceable because it was so worn and old.) 

 

“Hey, I say good riddance. That thing was ratty as hell dude; you had to sew it several different times in several different ways. It doesn’t even have sentimental value like your dumb hat. It is just _old_ , and old doesn’t always mean valuable.” Penguin tells him this before making a grab at Law’s coffee on the table. They were at Law’s place and while the med student was trying to study, Penguin was making no attempts to and was doing so unabashedly. When he reached for the coffee the dark-haired man deftly threw one of his books at the older, who yelped upon impact.

“That was a _medical_ journal you bastard! Those things are heavy as hell,” Penguin whines, despite earning no sympathy from either Bepo nor Law.

“Don’t touch things that aren’t yours,” Law replies without raising his eyes from his notes (not that he is really reading them because Penguin is doing everything in his power it seems to distract him).

“Yeah, we get it, that is why you’re all pissy in the first place. Someone touched your shit and you weren’t around to throw a book at them.” Penguin dodges the pencil case thrown in his direction - _even the stupid must learn_ , Law thinks. Bepo and Law try to go back to studying, but Bepo gives in to Penguin’s chatter and puts his books aside to talk about a game Penguin has recently gotten into and when they both leave to play said game, they look pleadingly at Law until he sighs and joins them.

 

Law thinks about what Penguin said, about being there to throw something at the thief, and he thinks maybe, just _maybe_ , whoever took his hoodie would come back to the scene of the crime and try his hand again and then Law could be there to do something about it. It is a stupid plan, but its a plan none the less and his next lunch break he puts it in motion. 

 

He brings some of his homework with him and tries not to be suspicious of everyone that comes into the laundromat. A couple of times he is asked if he is waiting for a washing machine or using one, and he politely tells them he isn’t, and tries to get comfortable in the plastic chair he appropriated for his stake out. He has three more hours until he has to return to campus to catch an evening class (his lunch break really should be called a lunch and dinner and fuck why is my schedule so annoying break) and he eventually gives up sitting in the uncomfortable chair. The plan is stupid anyways - who steals something and returns to the scene of the crime _wearing_ the item? Law sighs and starts to pack up his homework, deciding to move somewhere more comfortable to work rather than continue this escapade of stupidity (and if he packs up slower than normal, still hoping there is a chance that the thief would come back, he tells no one). The bell chimes when he is putting putting his pen back in his pencil case and when he looks up he is a _dumbfounded_ at the sight of a lanky teen with a straw hat wearing _his_ fucking hoodie. _Thank god the person that stole my shit is the dumbest man alive_ , he thinks, before realizing that he now has to confront the idiot and jams his pencil case into his backpack. Of course, he had planned what he was going to say, it was precise, non-accusatory in a way that would cause a scene, and indisputable. However, it is not at all what came out of his mouth.

“You’re wearing my fucking hoodie,” he glowers at the younger, fist tightly clutching his backpack as a subconscious defence against the possibility the teen would try and take his backpack too. The teenager looks right at Law, making eye contact with the older and very clearly irritated man, and then has the audacity to look away. Law _seethes_. 

“Hey, kid, listen to me,” he says as he knocks his hand on the shorter’s shoulder, “that is _my_ hoodie, and I want it back.” The shorter man turns back slowly.

“No, it is mine. Why else would I be wearing it?” The thief replies, staring directly into Law’s eyes. Law raises his eyebrows at the nerve of the kid, and had he been watching this situation rather than living it, he would have laughed. Law knew he was fairly intimidating - he is over 6 feet tall, not exactly a friendly face, has tattoos etched into his arms, and has vitiligo which usually made people uncomfortable (Bepo once said that “people don’t know where to look because they can’t look at your face, it is too scary, and they don’t want to seem like they’re gawking at your skin, and the tattoos are rather distracting, and-“ before Law had just cut him off entirely) and yet, here was this teen, young man, _whatever_ , talking to him with an air of absolute indifference. It was impressive and irritating as hell.

“You stole it - I came here a few days ago and you must’ve taken it from the dryer,” he says and the other rubs his chin as if to think about it, before grinning back.

“Nope, you’re wrong.” Law was half a second from throttling him, shoving him in a washing machine and then turning it on. He tries not to show it too much, but he clenches his jaw and glares. The other seemingly has lost interest and tries to move past Law again, presumably to steal more clothes, and the taller stops him by grabbing his arm and jerking him still. He doesn’t want to physically fight a kid in a laundromat, but fuck he _will._

“You shouldn’t grab strangers like that,” the younger pouts and pushes Law’s hand off with a surprising amount of force.

“You shouldn’t steal from strangers either,” Law retorts and the other huffs before putting his hands on hips and juts out his chin slightly.

“You can’t prove this hoodie is yours; it is just a plain grey hoodie and it could be anyone’s but this one is mine.” He stares at Law in the eye once again and Law recognizes a challenge when he sees one so he straightens his back to tower even more over the other (but for some reason, for once, he doesn’t feel all that tall). Somewhere, deep in the back of his mind, Law wonders if that is the reason he stole his hoodie - because it was so generic and really couldn’t be proven as Law’s because despite the various patch ups, there really wasn’t anything that personalized about the hoodie. He refuses to give him credit for this though, considering the idiot did come back to the laundromat wearing it and therefore, getting caught in it. 

“Why are you here anyways? You don’t have any laundry with you. You’re probably just here to steal more clothes, you little shit.” The kid hesitates for a moment, and Law narrows his eyes. Then, the thief looks behind Law and spots the rows of washing machines and triumphantly declares, 

“I am here to pick up my laundry.” 

“That is just a rephrasing of ‘I am here to steal more clothes,’” Law retorts, half amused by the fall of triumph from the shorter’s face. He sticks his tongue out at Law anyways and continues.

“No it isn’t - you can’t prove that this laundry isn’t mine either.” He points to a random washing machine. “That one is mine.”

“No it isn’t. An old lady was in here twenty minutes before you were and put her clothes in that one,” Law lies, but it doesn’t matter he _knows_ the kid is also lying and fuck if he won’t catch him in it. 

“I meant the one beside it,” he tries again and Law, to his own dismay, snorts.

“You’re terrible at lying. You don’t even make your lies convincing,” he says as he crosses his arms and tilts his head condescendingly. The shorter does not take well to shift in body language and jabs a finger into Law’s chest. 

“It doesn’t matter. You are in my _way_.” He steps into Law’s space and waits for Law to step back, which of course he doesn’t, and instead uncrosses his arms so he can jab the shorter back.

“Give me back my fucking hoodie and we won’t have a problem.” Law sneers and the other opens his mouth to talk back when he is cut off. 

 

It is at that moment, they both become acutely aware of the fact there are, indeed, other people in the laundromat watching the two that are one shout short of an actual fight, when an man with heavy wrinkles and ugly stare throws a chair in their direction.

“Would you two cut this _shit_ out,” he growls before sitting down on a different chair and snapping his newspaper back open. He has a thick cigar dangling from his mouth and Law is fairly certain that smoking inside is as equally annoying to everyone else as the spat him and this kid are having, but he doesn't really give a shit about that right now. The other few people in the laundromat reluctantly lower their heads and go back to their own tasks, and Law realizes they were all probably watching them bicker over the hoodie he still hasn't gotten back. Lacking any sense of shame, the younger simply laughs loudly and nudges the Law’s arm.

“I am hungry, I’ve decided, so if you want to keep yelling at me you are going to have to take me out for dinner.” Law can’t help but stare in disbelief, utterly confused as to where to even begin with that sentence.

“I- what?” He sputters, eyebrows furrowed and composure he previously held thrown away with the chair.

“I said, _I’m hungry_. Are you coming with me or not?” He shoves his hands in his jean pockets (he notices his shoes and _why_ was he wearing flip-flops in _October_? His jeans look too short for him and they're covered in rips and Law can’t tell if its by design or abuse but either way just looking at him makes him feel cold as he realizes Law’s hoodie looks like the warmest thing he probably owns) and waits for a response. 

“Why would I follow you _anywhere_ when you should just give me back my hoodie and fuck off, and why, pray tell, would I take you, of all people, out for fucking dinner,” he pinches the bridge of his nose and punctuates his words with swift hand movements, absolutely exasperated at the fool. Still, as fools do, he grins anyways.

“You’re funny _Torao_ ; we should go to Going Merry because their food is always good but I’m in the mood for something different so I don’t mind if you pick.” He talks pleasantly as if their previous row didn’t take place, and tugs at the sleeve on Law’s sweater as he turns around to leave the laundromat. 

“What the fuck is a _Torao_ , and I’m not taking you out for food!” Law finds himself shouting in vain when the shorter gives a firm tug and he actually gets pulled forward. He tries to put an end to it and smacks his hand away from his arm but this doesn’t deter the other and he just latches on again. To Law’s absolute horror, the shorter turns around and smiles brightly, letting out a peculiar laugh, and it makes his heart stutter. 

“I bet you’re hungry too,” he says simply, and he isn’t wrong but that is not the _point_. Law is about to tell him this when he continues talking. 

“Plus, if you come with me you might get your hoodie back.” He teases, and darts off out the door along with Law’s backpack because _fuck_ he let his guard down and put it on the table beside them at one point during the conversation and didn’t even realize it and the little bastard is already running off with it. Law shoves the door open to chase after him and hears the amused laugh of one of the people sitting close by along with the angry door chime. The younger doesn’t run too far thankfully, and Law catches him waiting on the sidewalk looking through the contents of his backpack. Before he can yank it out of his hands, the shorter simply hands it over, still smiling.

“That is a lot of books you’ve got, Torao.” Law double checks nothing of note is missing, then glares back.

“Are you going to try and steal them as well, _straw-hat_?” The younger looks quite amused by this nickname so he laughs again in his weird way. 

“Why would I steal your books? I don’t need them.” 

“That still doesn’t reassure me.” When law realizes that he is walking away from the parking lot he sighs, wiping a hand down his face, and mutters.

“If we’re going anywhere, I have a car, so we don’t have to walk.” He hates himself for that. He hates that he is letting this stranger, this weird, brash, idiotic, and _intriguing_ person persuade him to get food with him. He hates even more the way the shorter shouts with victorious triumph, throwing a fist in the air and bumps into Law with excitment and warm energy. He _despises_ how cute he looks in Law’s hoodie while doing so.

Law points to his car after the other enthusiastically asks which one it is, and watches him run over to the wrong car. Law continues walking to his car and checks the time, wondering if he can even spare it for this idiot (unfortunately he can) and waits for the kid to run over to the right car. He has a lot of messages from Penguin and Bepo, inquiring on how successful Law has been (“Please don’t kill them if you find the person that took your hoodie!!!!!” from Bepo, and he would lament over the irony of that later) and unlocks the doors instead of replying to them, before throwing his backpack in the back seat. Straw-hat, he has decided to call him, crashes into the front seat and gasps.

“It is so clean in here! my truck is never this clean,” he laughs freely, as if that was something to be amused instead of ashamed by, but the information that straw-hat can drive is what interests him the most.

“You can drive? Full licence and everything?” He questions as he starts the car. “How old are you?” The man in question fiddles with various buttons in the car, causing Law to eventually slap his hand away from the glove department as he puts the car in reverse. 

“I’m 20, but most people don’t believe me.” 

“It is your stupidity that fools people,” Law mutters in response, checking the rearview mirror (and he can’t see straw-hat, but he just knows that he is trying to open the glove department). 

“How old are you?” He asks, pretending he wasn’t doing exactly what Law knew he was doing when he looks back. “I bet you’re secretly 60. You seem like a grouchy old man.” Law rolls his eyes but humours him anyways. 

“I am quite old - I am a vampire, and I prey on laundromat thieves; I’ve decided that you’re going to be my dinner.” Straw-hat frowns at that.

“You’re too nice to be a monster, and besides, I could kick your ass so I’m not too worried about that.”

“I am not nice,” he retorts, and no response is given to that. While they are quiet, Law thinks about the various bandages and scars (particularity the one under Straw-hat’s eye) decorating the young man and wonders how many of those were from fights. He wonders how many of them he won, so he asks. 

“Yeah I do get into fights pretty often,” he says idly, more focussed on the houses they are passing; _he has a short attention span_ , Law thinks as his eyes flick over to the younger, and then back to the road. “It is a good thing you didn’t fight me back at the laundromat. You looked like you wanted to and it would’ve gone badly for you.” 

He says it as a fact. Not to challenge, not to brag, but with solid confidence and not an ounce of hesitation. Law wants to dispute him on this because Law isn’t exactly a stranger to fights either, but when he glances again to the younger he seems to have long moved on from the conversation (and really, there wasn’t much of a conversation to have becuase he did win - he got Law to drive him to dinner - and it wouldn’t be unimaginable that he would be able to command a physical fight with the same brashness and determination, but Law doesn’t want to mention that). 

“I’m 26,” he says after some more silence, and straw-hat hums back in response.

“So Torao _is_ old,” he laughs and Law scowls.

“26 isn’t that old.” He realizes straw-hat is looking back at him, smiling (of course).

“It doesn’t matter if it is or isn’t, but you’re right, I don’t think its old. I do still think you’re grouchy, though.” Law lets himself laugh at that, and he misses the way the younger’s eyes widen with amusement. 

“I would say that is only because you stole my shit, and then bullied me into taking you out for dinner, but you’re right. I am grouchy.” 

“You should be more grateful when someone asks you out on a date! Sanji always says that to me, anyways. I don’t know how much I agree with him on that.” Law almost swerves the car at that statement, shocked at the casual mention of a date (not this was one and definitely not that Law would ever want it to be one!) and twists his head to look at straw-hat. He doesn’t give Law any time to formulate a response because he just keeps talking. 

“Where are you taking me anyways?” He looks back at Law who is staring at him with indignation. “You should keep your eyes on the road, Torao.” 

Law takes a hand off the wheel to rub his temple and looks back at the road. Maybe he could crash the car and kill both of them. Maybe that would be for the greater good of everyone involved; he would be saving the world from all the headaches straw-hat inevitably causes, and he wouldn’t have to write his midterm in a couple of weeks. The more he thought about it, the more tempting it became.

“I am taking you to a restaurant I like, and I am _not_ taking you on a date.” Straw-hat pays no attention to his blatant irritation and instead practically drools over the idea of food. He hated this kid. 

 

Law forgets that he hates straw-hat - _Luffy,_ he learns half-way through dinner after they finally properly introduce themselves, and he explained why he called Law “ _Torao._ ”

“Spots,” he says gulping down the water the waitress brought them and making a move for the hot chocolate Law ordered for himself. He moved the mug out of arms reach and Luffy’s hand chased after it until Law kicked him in the shin. An attempt would be made again later, he knew, and by the end of the night Luffy would probably have bruises. 

“I don’t follow.”

“Ah, you know _Torao_ \- Tiger?” Law sips at his drink and watches Luffy impatiently fiddle with the cutlery, trying to balance whatever he could find on table into a poorly constructed tower. 

“What language is that?” The spoon in the middle of the tower starts to teeter dangerously and Law makes no move to steady it.

“Japanese! I’m half Japanese, half Brazilian, so I can speak a bit of Japanese, and a bit of Portuguese.” Luffy stacks another sugar packet on the tower, still ignoring the spoon.

“But why tiger? It sounds similar to my name, I _guess_ , but you didn’t know my name until a few minutes ago, and what do spots have to do with tigers?” The spoon gives, the tower crashes, and Law hides his amused look in the mug of his hot chocolate. The younger doesn’t seem to mind because he is immediately remaking the tower. 

“You should use this as a foundation,” Law says before he can stop himself, and hands Luffy one of the containers. He grins and thanks him.

“Usopp is much better at this,” he comments and Law continues to watch. Luffy had a habit of dropping names of friends without any context, and Law didn’t see the point of trying to ask (it wasn’t like he was ever going to meet them, he reasoned). “And because you’ve got those spots all over you.”

The older raises an eyebrow, and had he been younger, he would have resented how casually Luffy had pointed it out. Now, however, he appreciated the bluntness. Begrudgingly, Law was realizing that he was fond of how blunt the younger could be regardless of the situation. None the less the fact remained that Luffy was a fucking idiot.

“Tigers don’t have spots - you're thinking of a cheetah.”

“Cheetah is a stupid nickname for someone though. Torao sounds much better.”

“Torao is always a stupid nickname for someone, straw-hat.” 

“ _Straw-hat_ is a stupid nickname for someone, _Torao_.” 

 

Law ends up throwing a sugar packet at Luffy, but he smiles when Luffy laughs back.

 

When they get their food Luffy devours it with ferocity and speed that frankly terrifies Law. The young man can eat a _lot_ and Law is suspicious that he really will be paying for Luffy (he says a small prayer for his wallet) considering what seems like his lack of any personal belongs. He was surprised to find out Luffy did actually have a phone on him and he found this out only after he pulled out his own to check the time (he wasn’t going to be late for class because of this little bastard) and responded to a few, near frantic, messages from Bepo. Between mouthfuls of food, Luffy manages to excitedly ask Law if he has snapchat, and before Law can even lie about it like he was planning on it, he swiped the phone from Law’s hands and found the app. If he ever saw Luffy again, he vowed he would do it without anything of importance on him because the efficiency at which Luffy could steal was impressive and worrisome (as, he would continue to notice throughout dinner, was an effective way to describe the young man). When Luffy hands Law’s phone back he notices that he has added himself on snapchat, and Law tells himself he will delete the contact later. They talk the whole time and Law surprises himself at how much he enjoys the company of the idiot. He thought Luffy was cute when he first saw him enter the laundromat, but that was deep under many layers of annoyance, disbelief, confusion, and the overwhelming urge to punch him, and therefore left unthought about until he was sat right across from the other and drowning in his smiles and the sound of his laugh. He picked up on his quirks, the way his index finger would tap his thumb rhythmically when he thought of something, the absentminded humming when he was preoccupied with something else, the way he rubbed the scar under his eye when he talked about his family, how the right side of his mouth always tugged up and his eyes would light up at the hint of a challenge and he was fascinated by all of it. He was charming, fun to talk to, interesting to watch, a complete idiot and undoubtedly endearing and Law was _fucked_. 

When the bill comes Luffy looks at it with no remorse and while Law glares at him, he doesn’t actually mind all that much. It is in that moment, Luffy finally snatches the last of the hot chocolate (hardly warm chocolate, if he was being honest) and drinks it cheerfully. 

“Thanks for the meal, Torao!” He says again as they leave the restaurant and Law half-heartedly pushes him into a potted plant.

“Don’t be expecting another one,” he threatens and Luffy ignores as he links his arm with Law’s. 

“Didn’t you have class?” Luffy asks as Law tries to pry him off of him and the older freezes. He is _never_ late for class, and he shoves Luffy off with a definite push and checks the time.

“ _Shit_ ,” he curses and starts to run to where his car is parked. He doesn’t notice Luffy hasn’t followed him until he hears a shout from behind him.

“Let’s go on another date again soon,” he yells while waving his arms and he feels the tips of his ears go red. When he turns around to shout back, the thief is gone.

 

_Hold on_ he thinks. 

“ _Fuck_!” He yells. 

Luffy and his hoodie have disappeared and Law has no time to do anything about it because he is already late for his class so he hits his steering wheel and starts the car. He finds Luffy’s contact and angrily types a message before jamming his phone back in his pocket and pulling out of the driveway as fast as legally possible.

 

**Law**

GIVE ME BACK MY HOODIE YOU LITTLE SHIT. 

 

He gets a message from and unknown username in the middle of class, and nearly throws his phone when he reads it.

 

**PIRATE KING**

:D

 


End file.
